[Today's energy quota was met with excellence. Exceptional work, Manager. Do you feel the need to relax?]
The coffee, meticulously prepared with extra milk to satisfy X's specific taste, was set upon the desk. The loyal, trustworthy, and intimate Secretary seemed to adopt a slightly gentler tone after witnessing X complete her duties perfectly, without a single casualty or containment breach.
"Relax? No need, Angela. I'm fine."
Upon hearing the word 'relax,' X's brow furrowed, and she issued a firm, immediate refusal.
If she wasn't certain her Secretary wouldn't tamper with her beverage, X wouldn't have dared touch the coffee at all.
Because of the harrowing, extreme endings she witnessed in the simulator, X was now genuinely fearful of Angela.
Whether Angela acted with kindness or cruelty, it always felt as though the AI Secretary harbored a sinister motive.
It was a deep-seated first impression: even though Angela possessed flawless beauty and a voice as sweet as an angel's kiss, she still made X feel profoundly uneasy.
There was an angel once, but now, only a Demon remains. This was X's grim assessment of Angela. The Secretary in the simulation had committed several atrocities, and X's vigilance toward her was at its absolute peak.
It wasn't that she couldn't trust the Secretary; it was that X truly couldn't bring herself to do it. Even if a sophisticated AI theoretically lacked human desires, the simulator's data couldn't be lying, could it?
As for whether this intelligent AI could actually punish her, X had no desire to find out. To verify such a thing would bring her to the brink of a total mental breakdown.
Punishment was a threshold X refused to cross. She could tolerate the Deans' sarcasm and endure the employees' curses, but she absolutely could not accept such a fate.
It was too far-fetched; such a nightmare shouldn't be possible.
The day's results were stellar: the energy quota was met, and the special demands from the Deans were satisfied. Furthermore, intelligence for the newly acquired Subject Number [F-02-44] Abnormality was partially gathered, officially identifying it as [Beauty and the Beast].
This Abnormality showed a clear preference for the [Repression] work type. Performing Repression on it yielded a high success rate and substantial energy output.
However, the unique nature of the [Beauty and the Beast] Abnormality meant the Manager could not permit employees to engage in continuous Repression. If pushed too far, the Abnormality would 'die,' and the employee would be cursed to become the new [Beauty and the Beast].
It was a cycle of eternal misery...
The secondary protocol required that after a Repression session, the Abnormality's physical form would be suppressed. During this window, performing other work types would significantly boost the success rate. Once the work was finalized, [Beauty and the Beast] would recover its health, allowing for another round of Repression.
Once the employee rotations were established, it became clear that this was an easily managed Abnormality—perfect for training personnel. Overall, it was a low-maintenance Subject that provided solid benefits.
Even during a meltdown, leaving it alone wouldn't result in an escape, meaning no resources had to be wasted on suppression teams.
If things stayed this way—collecting manageable Abnormalities that posed little threat—X could maintain her perfect work record and ensure no employees were harmed or failed to clock out safely.
But that was only 'if.' This was merely the second day, just twenty-four hours after taking the position, and she was still a rookie Manager who had yet to prove her true worth.
X buried herself in her work. Even after her shift officially ended, she kept a stack of files: documents detailing the Corporation's equipment reserves.
X was auditing the Corporation's inventory to determine which weapons could be issued to the current staff, and which employees possessed the stats required to handle such gear.
L Corporation utilized specialized weaponized gear known as E.G.O. This equipment was extracted from the Abnormality itself; fundamentally, it was the materialized power of the monster. Their essence was forged into weapons, allowing employees to turn that power back against the Abnormalities.
Although L Corporation never revealed the secret of its Singularity Technology, X couldn't help but speculate. It likely involved the Abnormalities—perhaps a 'Singularity' fuel harvested from these creatures, or the discovery of a 'Singularity' within the monsters themselves. Either way, they were inseparable.
The Wings of the World possessed a lethal obsession with 'knowledge'; their secrets were guarded with absolute ferocity. X understood this well, so she avoided asking Angela too many questions.
Excessive curiosity was a fast track to a dead end. X decided it was better to remain slightly ignorant for once.
Knowing too much was dangerous, but knowing too little was equally fatal. One had to find a razor-thin balance to survive.
In this Corporation, perhaps just staying alive was the best possible outcome.
X looked at the documents and felt a wave of gloom regarding her ultimate fate. She thought of the dismissed employees—men and women without names, reduced to Subject Numbers that were eventually erased, leaving only cold digits on a ledger. Personnel sacrificed for the cause.
It was a tragedy too heavy to ignore...
The intelligent AI would always be waiting for the next Manager. She was just another replaceable part in the machine.
"Sigh. Angela, why don't you tell me what kind of relaxation you're talking about? Video games? Or something else?"
X slid the files into her drawer and changed her mind. If everything was going to be this painful, why not take a moment to be kind to herself?
Though she doubted the AI Secretary could offer anything useful, listening was better than nothing. Surely the AI wouldn't suddenly turn violent and attack her.
[I apologize, Manager. The Corporation does not provide video games. If you seek electronic entertainment, we have Corporation broadcasts and radios.]
When Angela mentioned broadcasts and radios, she pointed to the speakers near X's monitor. The broadcasts were reserved for major announcements or corporate events, while the radio played nothing but the "Employee Emergency Evasion Manual" on a loop.
No matter the perspective, those things had nothing to do with fun.
"Angela, then what exactly did you mean by 'relaxing'?"
X took a slow sip of the milky coffee. The rich flavor momentarily distracted her. She didn't know why, but Angela's brewing skills seemed to be evolving; the drink was perfectly suited to her palette, and she was beginning to feel a slight addiction.
Was her AI Secretary more like a high-end vending machine than a colleague? After all, Angela didn't grasp the nuances of X's work; she merely acted as a reminder.
Her role was to nag about energy quotas, monitor Qliphoth Meltdowns, report mental instability leading to breaches, announce employee deaths, flag escaping Abnormalities, or complain about the lazy Deans.
She wasn't sure if this was a test of her management skills or just an attempt to break her. At the very least, every time an alarm blared, X couldn't stop her body from a reflexive shudder.
Setting aside those dark reflections, X didn't actually loathe Angela. It was simply that the brutal punishments within the simulator had left a stain on her impression of the AI Secretary, causing her body to trigger a slight defensive reflex.
[Do you require a massage, Manager? Physical therapy is an excellent method for relaxation. I have recently acquired... the Corporation possesses a specialized massage apparatus, though its efficacy was never clearly rated by the staff who utilized it...]
X sipped her coffee, listening to Angela's hollow chatter. Yet, whether it was her imagination or not, X felt as though Angela was describing something horrific with a disturbing, mundane tone.
"Um... Angela, are you suggesting I trial the Corporation's massage machine?"
[Certainly not. Do you wish to experience a manual massage? Perhaps you could be the first to evaluate the sensory feedback. However, this is a personal service provided for you, not a mechanical one... although I am also a machine, our classifications differ. I fulfill many roles simultaneously.]
X desperately wanted to decline, but she felt that another refusal would be tactless. The Secretary had subtly hinted at this before, and now she was stating it plainly. If she refused again, she feared she might be coerced.
X had no desire to be shoved into a massage machine just to learn how it felt. Although she didn't know what kind of "toy" the massage machine Angela mentioned actually was, it certainly couldn't be pleasant.
"Alright... I trust you, Angela."
X reluctantly shed her heavy white coat. This was her final concession; any further would mean open resistance against the Secretary.
A massage, regardless of the context, wasn't much different from removing a coat. After taking it off, X felt a slight chill and had to request the air conditioning in the Manager's office to be raised.
Perhaps she hadn't expected X to be so compliant. The AI Secretary opened her eyes slightly in surprise, her golden gaze fixed intently on X's back, pausing for a few milliseconds.
After that brief hesitation, Angela placed her hands on X's shoulders, regulating her strength as she began to knead. This surgical precision was likely something only an emotional AI could achieve, as "perfection" was a vague metric that had to be felt and judged internally.
Ordinary machines usually lack the ability to moderate their strength; they follow a rigid program, adhering to outdated standards, completely unable to adapt. They are like generic, mass-produced goods without any soul.
The pressure applied was flawless, neither too light nor too heavy. The right amount of force helped dissolve tense knots and soothe muscle aches, draining the fatigue of long hours spent sitting amidst the rhythmic sounds of pressurized air escaping the gaps in the room.
Maintaining the same posture, always sitting, led to inevitable lower back pain and stiffness in the neck and shoulders, all of which could be solved through this contact.
There was no malice, just simple contact, a standard massage. When Angela finally stopped, X even let out a soft, reluctant grunt, like a cat that hadn't been petted enough.
The outburst lasted only a fleeting second. After that moment, X immediately regained her composure and ceased making such embarrassing noises.
However, even a single second was a long time for the AI Secretary, an intriguing reaction.
[Manager, if you require this service again, I am available at any time. Of course, I also look forward to your feedback so I can continue to improve.]
The loyal AI Secretary even took a moment to readjust X's collar, smoothing out the wrinkles on her clothing and tidying her slightly messy hair to maintain a professional image.
"Maybe... maybe we could do it again, Angela."
Because the service was executed so perfectly, X's mind began to grow hazy. The post-work exhaustion made her lose her filter, and she unconsciously spoke her true thoughts.
[Certainly, I am always here to serve you.]
The intelligent AI seemed ready to begin the process once more.
"Wait, Angela! I was joking! Once is enough, really. Okay, Angela, open the Manager's door. I need to go elsewhere to breathe."
X lacked the courage to try that again. She knew she had to remain vigilant toward the Secretary. However, if that supposed punishment was truly what she thought, it wasn't entirely unacceptable.
—No! What am I thinking?—
—She's just an intelligent AI, a machine!—
The thought was suppressed the moment it surfaced. X was self-disciplined; she wouldn't lose herself over a momentary bit of pleasure.
Regardless, Angela was just a machine designed to mimic a human, an AI Secretary. How could she harbor any complex thoughts?
Is she really just a machine?
X felt she might be suffering from Stockholm Syndrome. Why did she keep thinking Angela was good? Was it because of this tiny bit of gentleness? Could she fall for such a small act of kindness?
As if fleeing reality, X hurriedly threw on her coat and bolted from the Manager's office. The AI Secretary, who had held the door for her, remained indifferent, quietly organizing the scattered reports on the Manager's desk.
Most of these files were awaiting processing by the AI Secretary, only handed to the Manager for a final signature after Angela's review. Logically, whether the research was approved or not, Angela held the true authority.
The Manager was merely responsible for stamping the seal and signing; sometimes, even those weren't necessary, just a quick glance.
But was this a violation of the rules? Of course not; this was how the Corporation was structured.
The intelligent AI held such immense power because she was created by the Founder. Angela's creator was 'A,' the founder of Lobotomy Corporation. As the AI built to assist in managing the Corporation, her authority was vast.
Where was that elusive 'A,' who was so rarely seen? X didn't know, and 'A' was only ever mentioned in passing by Angela. X didn't even know who had approved her appointment as Manager, perhaps it was the intelligent AI herself?
It was absurd.
The Corporation hallways and the lounges' vending machines offered no alcohol, likely to prevent staff or Deans from causing accidents while on duty.
However, the vending machine in the conference room had every drink imaginable. Not just beer; there were even flavored drinks labeled 'Oden Liquid.' Although X didn't know the taste, it must be unique.
X bought two cans of beer, opening one for herself and intending to give the other to the Dean, even if it was unnecessary. X hoped to ease the awkward tension with the Dean.
Checking the [Favorability Level] display, the Trust Level for Safety Department Dean Netzach had shifted from [Dislikes] to [Distrusts]. It wasn't great, but it showed a path for improvement.
Malkuth's words, though gentle, could easily numb the mind if heard too often, causing X to become arrogant and misjudge her own skills.
Hearing Netzach's cynical commentary occasionally wasn't bad, primarily because X felt that Netzach's personality was closest to the average Corporation employee, very similar to X's own mood.
X certainly wanted to collapse and flee this hellish Corporation.
But she was the Manager; she couldn't act like that. She had to be responsible for her actions, unable to speak recklessly. As Manager, she could not be overly intimate with the staff; she couldn't work side-by-side with them like the Deans did.
So, she really wanted to hear the green-haired Dean's opinions, or perhaps the reasons for Netzach's pessimistic view of the Corporation, as well as her feelings toward Angela, was it hate, or just indifference?
One perspective was incomplete. Angela was used to praising the Corporation's greatness. But how did the Department Deans see it?
X was certain that the Department Deans were not the stiff AI one might imagine, merely responsible for math.
They were like vibrant people, real humans, each with their own attitude. Some agreed with the Corporation, others hated it. The only similarity was that they all served it; willingly or not, they worked here.
Even the controlling AI, Angela, would occasionally show a nuanced human tenderness that X couldn't quite understand. Though this was limited to X, she couldn't ignore this fact.
Was it merely a performance? Or did the intelligent AI truly possess delicate human emotions? Why did the simulator keep showing punishments, and why was the Secretary AI the one carrying them out?
This situation was beyond X's control. She opened the beer and took a large gulp. Some spilled onto her collar, making her clean uniform smell faintly of alcohol.